


A Common Expletive

by gigantic



Category: Actor RPF, Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-09
Updated: 2009-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigantic/pseuds/gigantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shia falls for some bullshit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Common Expletive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [insunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insunshine/gifts).



> This is a little something for insunshine on the occasion of her birthday. She likes the Brendon/Shia, so I gathered some words. Happy birthday, duuuuuude! Also, lots of thanks to stereomer for checking the gate.

So, Mike has this theory, and Shia's heard it a million times, that people suffer from imaginary emotional conditions. He's one of those cynical types, with a lot of faith in sex and no faith in anything else.

"What about your momma?" Lorenzo always asks. "How do you feel about her?"

"She's great, she's great," is Mike's answer, usually, and then he waves his hands. "You're missing my whole point, man."

There are only emotional conditions that trick people into prioritizing their physical affection. That is, who deserves it, who gets it, who gets to call a man or woman 'baby,' and it's all bullshit. Generally, that's the point of Mike's theory. Once upon a time he felt strongly for two women in the same week, except he started a relationship with the second one just because there was something about her smile.

A bullshit condition. See also: love.

;;

_10:00pm, Friday_

Shia gets to the bar late, because his work schedule gets shot to hell around seven in the evening. He's finishing up a project for the day, and he doesn't realize how long they've gone over until he gets a text message from Lorenzo asking, _did you get lost or are you just an asshole_?

When he walks in, he spots his gang of three at one end of the bar just as a party of guys at the other end cheer and down shots together. Shia spares a glance that way, and then joins his friends, ordering something of his own.

;;

_11:36am, the morning after_

Thank God it's Saturday and he's got the afternoon off, because his head is killing him already. Shia's barely opened his eyes, just peeking at the daylight, and he's already considering taking out a personal vendetta against the sun.

"Way too fucking bright," he mutters to himself, and then he hears someone sort of chuckle. 

Shia turns his head, realizing that he's not alone. Of course not. There's too much warmth underneath the blankets for him to be the only one, and as he opens his eyes all the way, he can also see that this isn't even his fucking house. 

Turning his head, Shia comes face-to-face with the wide eyes of some guy who must be cluing in to the very same things.

"Um," Shia says. "Hi."

"Hey," the guy says, and his brow furrows a little. He shifts on the bed, pushing up on his elbows. He blinks several times, shaking his head sleepily. "I -- okay. Okay, this is gonna be fucked up, but I. Don't hold it against me? I don't remember how we got here."

"Is this your room though?" Shia asks, alarmed.

The guy looks confused, and then says, "Yeah -- yeah. No, that part I know, I just don't, uh. I don't remember too much of, um. Brendon."

"Oh, no," Shia says, and he clears his throat. "My name's Shia."

"No, no," the guy says. He laughs, two short bursts of air. "No, I'm Brendon. Hi, Shia. I don't remember a whole lot from last night."

Shia laughs. His voice is still gruff, worn from sleep. He says, "Good. Oh, great, me too," and feels better when some of the awkwardness of the last couple minutes dissipates. "So you're sure this is your room?"

;;

Don't even get Mike started on hypothetical concepts like love at first sight.

He says, "You might as well commit yourself. It's like emotional obsessive-compulsive disorder. Believe me, anybody who believes in that shit will also tell you it's happened to them more than once."

"That's not true," Shia says as Lorenzo inevitably doubles over laughing at how serious Mike sounds. "What about Josh? He met his girl on a blind date, and that shit clicked."

"The odds are one in a million," Mike says, and he points at Shia. "One in a million people maybe -- maybe -- experiences something genuine. Maybe. But that's like seeing Big Foot. It doesn't happen every day."

"Big Foot from down at that bar on Slauson? I drink with that dude every other week," Lorenzo says, gesturing in the general direction, and Shia laughs. Mike flips him off.

;;

_11:05pm, Friday_

Shia needs another beer. The bar's gotten a lot more crowded since he arrived. He moves closer to the center of the counter to get the bartender's attention. She doesn't really notice until he holds his money in the air some.

"What can I get you?" she asks, yelling over the commotion.

Shia leans forward as much as he can to order a beer for himself and a shot for Lorenzo. During the pull-back, he loses his footing some, and he bumps into a guy with his back to turned to him. Shia's fairly positive he elbow-jabs the dude in the spine, confirmed a moment later when he turns around, wincing.

"Sorry," Shia says. "I feel like a dinosaur trying to get through here, all uncoordinated."

The guy quirks his mouth, bemused, and then it lightens some, entertained. He says, "Like a dinosaur?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I don't know, man. I'm over here failing at ordering beer." Shia smiles behind it, hoping he comes across as sort of inept but disarming instead of awful. He didn't _mean_ to beat up on the dude.

He doesn't expect the response to be, "Maybe it's what you're trying to order," but that's what he gets.

"What does that mean?"

The guy holds out his hand. He says, "Brendon, nice to meet you."

Shia shakes the hand offered to him. Brendon has a firm grip. "Shia. Likewise. Now what's wrong with my beer?"

"Nothing," Brendon says, "If you want the bartender to think you're a wimp. She's got a thing against IPAs."

"No lie?" Shia looks around, but the bartender isn't even anywhere near them for the moment. "I was going to maybe order a shot for myself too. I mean, I got one for my buddy, but I don't know what I want."

Brendon leans in to speak, saying, "You need tips for stuff to stay away from?"

"If you got 'em, man," Shia says. "I can't keep embarrassing myself up here, thinking I'm pro and looking amateur."

Brendon laughs, and Shia takes in the way his face lights up more than he can actually hear the sound. Touching his arm quickly, companionable, Brendon says, "Alright, don't worry. I've had most of the stuff in here. I can help."

;;

_11:45am, twelve months later_

For Brendon's birthday, they're flying to Costa Rica to go zip-lining and make out in the woods, so for their anniversary, they go to the zoo. Brendon gets passes from the library, because he's into the simplicity of being the kind of person who uses his public resources. He also has a thing for lemurs lately.

"How fucking cool is that?" he asks, tugging on Shia's hand and pointing.

Shia says, "It has the creepiest eyes I've ever seen. I'm afraid it's going to steal my soul. B, it's stealing my soul right now."

"He wouldn't dare. I'd fucking fight him," Brendon says, eyeing the lemur. Shia laughs, and then he watches Brendon's expression change back to awe in about ten seconds flat. "But, for real. How much do you want one?"

Shia says, "Can you have lemurs as pets?"

"I knew a girl with one!" Brendon says, enthusiastic, and he steps closer, not letting go of Shia's hand. "Or alright, she was more a friend of a friend. Travis knew her or dated her or something, I forget. She had a pet one of these though."

"I'll get you one." Shia bumps their shoulders together, and he nods to the animal. "What about this one? Let's take it home right now."

Brendon scoffs, saying, "Yeah, right. Don't tease me."

"No, I'm serious," he says. 

They don't actually take home the lemur Brendon stares at for fifteen minutes, but Shia does buy him a stuffed animal replica while Brendon goes to the bathroom at one point. 

;;

"Never trust anything that can't decide if it's a verb or a noun," Mike says.

"I'll keep that in mind," Shia says, pulling out a cigarette from his pack.

He doesn't actually take most of what Mike says as words to live by.

;;

_1:15pm, the ~~morning~~ afternoon after_

It's too late to have breakfast, so Shia and Brendon get lunch in the hotel lobby. The real purpose is so that Shia can orient himself and figure out where he is, exactly, and how to get back to his car. That is, if his car isn't parked here at the hotel. 

God, he hopes his car is here.

"You'll be fine," Brendon says, nodding. He seems confident. "I'm sure your car is here, and it's fine."

"I hope," Shia says. 

They order -- Shia goes with an ordinary burger and fries, and Brendon gets pasta Alfredo -- and Shia focuses on not over-salting his plate to get himself to stop worrying about his car. Brendon graciously shares a story with Shia about how he crashed his mom's purple van a week after he got his driver's license, and they had to get the dent knocked out of the bumper. 

"So, you know, just think," Brendon says, twirling noodles around his fork. "No matter how shitty your situation could be right now, at least you aren't the loser I was at, like, sixteen."

It's not quite the same, but it makes Shia smile anyway, amused. He says, "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Welcome." Brendon forks more pasta into his mouth.

Shia looks at his plate, enjoying the smell. "Is that good?"

"It's awesome." Brendon covers his mouth to chew and swallow. Lifting his fork out of the way, he adds, "You want to try it?"

He holds the plate up for Shia to get some pasta and taste. Brendon raises his eyebrows, waiting for a reaction, and so Shia hums, satisfied.

He says, "Good stuff."

"Told you," Brendon says, and he wipes his mouth. "Hey, can I steal a fry?"

They end up sharing plates that way, only a couple bites, but it strikes Shia how easy a meal it is, despite the fact that Shia can barely remember having sex with Brendon only a few hours prior. He figures that, if they were going to call it that, then this would probably count as a better first date, although Shia didn't even ask Brendon out, really.

He takes a drink of water, sets down his glass, and then he says to Brendon, "Hey, are you only in town for tonight, or. Are you busy?"

;;

_5:37pm, four years later_

"I'm pretty sure you yelled at me that night," Brendon says.

"I did not," Shia says. He slides his hand along down Brendon's chest. He can feel Brendon's laughter through his chest, resonating some, low.

Brendon says, "You did! You made this declaration, but you yelled it in my face."

He writhes against the bed, sliding so their hips align less. Shia can feel Brendon's dick against his stomach, soft now, and he figures they should probably get in the shower soon. They still need to make it to dinner on time.

"You don't remember," he says, nudging his knuckles into Brendon's skin. "You were as drunk as I was."

"No, I do. _That_ I remember." Brendon bends his leg, bringing his knee up and sighing as he smiles. "It was hilarious. Spence reminded me, because first you said it to him - to them, because you forgot my name."

Shia thinks back, recalling it vaguely. Yeah, wow, that's -- that's how it happened. He'd forgotten. He drops his head to Brendon's shoulder, giggling. "Oh, shit, I do remember that."

"'Hey,'" Brendon quotes, talking louder suddenly. "'Hey, your friend -- your friend is fucking, like, the best. What do you call him? Does he have a nickname?'"

"I thought I was being slick," Shia says, still hiding his face. 

"Then you yelled in my face!" Brendon says. "'Cause you started tagging along with us, remember? And you and me went to smoke outside that other club, the one with all the fucking bad house music. You were like, 'B, you're a fucking champ! Like, another hour and I'll be in love with you!'"

The more he says, the more incriminating it gets. Shia hopes his face isn't red. Hell, hopefully his whole body isn't flushing right now. Embarrassed, he says, "I was really specific."

Brendon nods. Shia lifts his head to see him, the way he's got his mouth pressed together, damming his laughter. "It was funny. We were crazy drunk. I didn't remember it at all until Spencer was talking to me about it one day."

"And then I took you home and sucked your dick."

Brendon laughs out loud then. "Fuck _yes_ ," he says, stretching his his arms out and sighing. "God, I love love."

"I think the word you meant to use there was head," Shia says. "Blowjob, maybe. That's an option too. Try that."

"I blowjob you," Brendon tells him, completely entertained by himself. 

Shia pinches him, making Brendon hiss and kick softly at Shia's leg, but Shia also says, "Yeah, me too. The blowjob of my life," and Brendon practically chokes on his laughter.

;;

_11:15pm, Friday_

So. There's something about Brendon's smile.


End file.
